Sex Story: An Erotica Short (2 page)

I settled back on the couch and opened my legs, still staring at the golf clubs, thinking about Eric, my man. I thought about his big, strong arms and his ripped abdomen and his dark blonde hair which fell into his eyes when he needed a haircut. My vagina began to throb. What would he call it, my vagina? Once, he’d tried to talk dirty and asked if he could eat my pussy. And he’d said it just like that, “Can I eat your pussy?” I’d gasped and ruined the moment. We hadn’t had sex for two weeks after that and he never broached the subject of dirty talk again.

My pussy… Oh, yeah, that’s what it needed to be called. Something a little naughty and bad. Something nasty. It was nasty, wasn’t it? It was aching, aching so badly as it wanted more. I was getting so turned on, I didn’t know if I could contain myself but I couldn’t
not
do it. Not now anyway. I
had
to do it. My hand went into my pajamas bottoms and into my panties. I was wet. Eric loved it when I was wet like this. He didn’t say anything, of course, but he’d smile with pleasure whenever he’d touch me down there and feel the slick heat of passion.

I touched it then. I touched myself and really,
really
felt myself for the first time. I was moist and ready. If Eric had been in the room, I would have grabbed his cock and sucked it. I wanted to. It was like something had finally clicked in my brain and now I understood the whole thing. This was what sex was about, this want and this need to be overpowered and to be fucked and sucked and loved and worshiped while giving it back. If only he was there with me, I could have finally given him what he wanted. I wanted to sit down on his cock and ride it. I wanted him to put me up on all fours and stick it in and fuck me hard. I wanted him there with me, with me sucking on his cock. But he was at work. He’d called earlier to tell me he’d be late. If only he was here, I could give him this, give him myself which I know he wanted so badly.

I found myself wriggling out of my pajamas bottoms and out of my panties and lying bare-assed naked on the leather couch. It felt so freeing to not have clothes on that part of my body. And then the vibrator found its way to my clit. And that’s when I realized what I’d been missing out on for all these years. Oh God, it felt so good, so bad, so right and so fucking wrong! It felt like nothing I’d ever felt before, not even Eric’s cool, moist lips. It felt like something I’d been missing out on all my life and once I found it, there was no going back.

The orgasm just came at me. I nearly leapt out of my skin with it. It was intense with the vibrator, probably the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. I grabbed my breast and squeezed hard as I came and then I cried out in absolute joy and ecstasy as the release swept through my body and then gave me peace.

It was over. But it had only just begun.

* * * * *

Soon thereafter, I began doing it on a regular basis. Not only that, I’d bought myself several new toys. I bought a dildo, a rabbit and several other battery operated sexual devices. All for me, for my enjoyment. The “
Garden
of
Delight
” certainly became a favorite shopping site.

I wouldn’t say I was obsessed with masturbating or anything. More like I just became very devoted to my new hobby. It was like I had finally discovered a pastime that I enjoyed. I liked doing it while I was waiting for Eric to come home at night. Or I liked doing it in the mornings on weekends before he got out of bed. Or I liked doing it in the shower. It was I did to give myself a little boost. And it was fun. That’s what a hobby should be, right?

I stared at myself in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile. The new blonde hair color the stylist insisted would look great with my skin tone was, indeed, perfect. It really set off my deep blue eyes and the light tan I was getting from being out in the sun. I’d never been a blonde before. I liked it, though. It suited me and it was always good to change. My neighbor, Jill, had laughed when Eric and I had dropped in the bar the other night. She said we were looking like twins, though my hair was more platinum blonde than his, of course. He grinned and said, “Who wouldn’t want to look like her?” That made her wink at me and say, “Oh, did you enjoy the package?” I could have killed her! That was my secret. I managed to mumble, “What package?” Of course, she just smiled and walked away.

“What’s she talking about?” Eric asked, studying me. “Lara?”

“I have no idea,” I replied and sipped my mojito.

Yeah, no. I didn’t tell him my boyfriend about my new hobby. I know I should have and I should have shared but I didn’t want to. I just wasn’t ready. I was being selfish, I know, but I wanted to keep it for myself. I suppose the main reason being was that I felt if I shared, and it got weird, then I’d be out of a really fun and enjoyable hobby. I didn’t want to spoil it. This was for me and if that meant leaving my boyfriend out of the loop, then that’s what it meant.

I stepped back from the mirror and appraised my body. All those leg lifts and crunches at the gym were paying off, that’s for sure. Since I’d started dating Eric, I’d really upped my workouts, probably because he was in such stellar shape. The man certainly had a body to die for. Sometimes I’d see women gasp at the sight of him at the park when he was playing basketball with his buddies. He’d start off in gym shorts and a t-shirt but soon that t-shirt would come off and then it was all over. Those women literally could not keep their eyes off him. It made me a little jealous but I was happy he came home with me.

Sure, our sex life was better now that I was having some solo time with my vibrator. But it wasn’t the best. I knew that. I knew that in time I would be able to amp it up but right now I was still hanging back. I still didn’t know why, either. I just wasn’t ready. I just could not understand why I couldn’t just give myself over to him. It was like there was something in me that wouldn’t allow it. I knew it was just fear and fear has a way of tainting everything, just as it was tainting my relationship with the only man I’d ever truly loved. And the fear was unfounded. I was afraid he might leave me for someone else. I was afraid I wasn’t good enough for him. This fear kept me from really giving myself over. I mean, why give it to him if he was just going to end up hurting me? I’d read some women prefer to orgasm with vibrators. I was beginning to wonder if I was one of them. I have to say, that piece of plastic really made me feel things I’d never felt before. I didn’t even know if Eric could do what it did for me. But I knew if something didn’t change between us, I’d lose him.

After I began to think about it from that angle, I almost started crying. I don’t know why I was so sure he’d leave me or why I had such insecurity issues. Sure, I knew it probably had something to do with feeling insignificant as a child due to my parents’ divorce but I was a grown woman now. Why couldn’t I just let my man have a good time and allow myself to do the same? I didn’t know why. I just couldn’t.

I sighed and pushed all those depressing thoughts out of my head, then checked the alarm clock through the bathroom door. It was after two. Since I’d had to work overtime the last few weeks, my boss told me to knock off early. I was more than grateful to do just that because my apartment looked like a disaster area and was in need of a good cleaning. Neither one of us had time to clean or pick up. Our schedules were so hectic, it was a miracle we were able to eat much less have sex. We mostly stayed in my apartment and even discussed the possibility of him giving his up and just moving in with me. I wanted that. I wanted him here with me as much as possible, but something told me to hold back and wait. But I didn’t know what the point was. We basically lived together and he’d save a fortune on rent.

I checked the alarm clock again. Oh, yeah. I had a little time now. As I stared at my body, I began to feel the tingle. It started out with a thought about Eric, usually, then I’d feel warmth in my pussy, like it was getting fired up.
Mmmmm
… Yeah. It was time for a quickie. I could “spank the monkey,” as I’d heard Eric jokingly refer to masturbation before and still have time to clean up the apartment before he came home.

I stepped back and turned on my heel, going into the bedroom. After I had found my vibrator, which I kept hidden in the nightstand beneath some books and a box of tissues, I lay back on the bed. In two seconds, the vibrator was on and between my legs. I couldn’t get good contact with my yoga pants on, so I pulled them off and laid it on top of my panties. Now, that was the ticket.

As soon as I began to get my groove on, my whole body just relaxed and gave itself over to the sensations of pure erotic bliss. I closed my eyes and moaned, just enjoying how good it felt. The orgasm was almost instantaneous. And then it was over. And then I wanted another one and, after that, another.

But before that could happen, I heard a noise. When I opened my eyes, I saw Eric standing at the door staring at me, his mouth hanging open. I gasped. From the look on his face, I could tell he had been watching me the whole time, or at least long enough to know what I was doing. The look on his face told me that he was more than a little shocked and slightly irritated. I felt the sting of embarrassment on my cheeks as he stared at me. What now?

I started to say something but he shook his head. What was he going to do? I didn’t know. I just lay there, all vulnerable and embarrassed and wanted to hide under the covers. Oh, God, this was bad, so bad.

We stared at each other for a long moment before I looked away and started to sit up. He held up one hand, halting me, then he said, oh so quietly, “You never do that with me.”

There was part accusation in his voice, part hurt. What did he mean? Did he think I was cheating him out of something? Like I wasn’t giving enough of myself? Yeah, he probably did.
I never did that with him
… Yeah. And he was pissed about it.

“You looked so happy,” he muttered.

I was happy. Masturbating made me happy. It made me feel free. It was something I did for myself, to connect with myself, to feel alive.

“You always hold out on me,” he said.

Now he looked angry. There was accusation in his voice and what sounded like a little hurt. As in, how dare I keep him from having great sex when that’s all he wanted? I suddenly felt ashamed. I had been holding out on him. No, it wasn’t right; it was just something I did.

“You’ve been doing this all along, haven’t you?” he asked, shaking his head. “Tell me, Lara. You’ve been doing this, haven’t you?”

I shook my head. No, it wasn’t like that.

He stared me straight in the eye. “You don’t want me.”

My mouth dropped. I started to protest, to tell him I wanted him more than anything, but the way he looked at me told me it might be better if I kept quite.

“You don’t,” he said. “You do not want me. What a fool I’ve been.”

“No!” I exclaimed. “It’s not like that at all!”

“Then how is it?” he asked. “You obviously enjoy getting off and can have an orgasm. Oh, but wait. Just not with me, right?”

“I’ve had orgasms with you!” I said, almost to the point of exasperation. I sat up and put the vibrator on the nightstand and turned to him. I stared into his eyes and started to explain myself further but the look on his face told me to keep quiet. I kept quiet.

“Then what is it?” he asked. “How long have you been doing this? Always?”

I shook my head. No, it hadn’t been that long, actually, only about six months. I wanted to tell him that I had I meant to share it with him. That I had meant to give him more, better good sex but I just couldn’t. I wanted to. I’d thought about it and I’d tried. But something always kept me from crossing that line. That something was the fear of giving myself totally over to him. I couldn’t get past it.

I didn’t say these things to him, though I should have. Instead I said, “What are you doing home? You’re supposed to be at work.”

He shook his head. “No, I told you I was taking a half-day to play golf. I left my clubs here.”

Damn those golf clubs anyway!

Now what? Well, it was out in the open. I really did enjoy sex, at least with myself. What now? Where did we go from here? I just stared at him, not knowing what to do. I should probably just get up, get dressed and have it out with him. Then what? Then he’d probably leave me. And that would be that. But I was sick of living with this fear.

I opened my mouth to say something but he held his hand up again, silencing me. What was he going to do? Suddenly I realized what he wanted, what he needed. And I knew he was going to take it. And, boy, oh, boy, did that send my heart racing.

Without a word, he crossed over to the bed, coming at me quickly, as if he couldn’t get there fast enough. I waited. I did not move one inch. I could not have moved even if I’d wanted to. I waited in anticipation and then there he was, to me, at me and the next thing I know, he was on me, pushing his body onto mine and claiming what was his—me. Oh, and what a wonderful feeling it gave me to know he wanted me that much, so much that he would do this, that he would claim me.

His lips, his masculine lips overcame mine. They took me over. His mouth ate at mine, sucking at me until I was breathless and wanting more. And he was giving it to me, giving me his all, every single bit of himself, he gave. I wanted more. I wanted his hands on me, all over me, touching me, feeling me, devouring me. And I wanted it—sex, fucking. I wanted to get fucked by him. For the first time ever I felt this release inside of me and I wanted him. I wanted him to want me, to devour me, to take me, to use me. I’d never responded to him this way and both of us could tell it. It was as though something had totally shifted and now we were doing what we were always meant to do.

His hands grabbed my breasts and squeezed them roughly. This made me go into a tizzy, wanting his mouth on them, licking them, sucking them. He bent down and pulled my shirt and bra down then licked my nipple, which made me moan loudly, then he bit at it, little tiny bites here and there. Bite, bite, bite. I was so overcome with the sensations, I was about to explode. But there was more. He took my nipple in his mouth and sucked on it long and hard. A small scream of passion tore out of my throat and I threw my head back. It felt so good, it was almost painful.